


Bi-Curious Denial and Repressed Crushes

by TwentyFirstCenturyJane



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Flirting, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Possessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwentyFirstCenturyJane/pseuds/TwentyFirstCenturyJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that Dean wants to be hit on, okay. He doesn’t. He’s perfectly comfortable in his heterosexuality, thank you very much, no matter how often he’s been mistaken as part of a couple while on a case. <br/>So sitting at the end of a bar in a gay club, on the lookout for a shape shifter that apparently has it out for the LGBTQ community, watching the multitude of guys that have come up to Cas just two seats away is making him a little pissed.<br/>Because Cas is an angel, an innocent angel, who is, okay, attractive in an abstract sort of way, with those damn eyes and his perpetual sex hair and the way his lips are slightly chapped and so damn pink. <br/>Dean’s possibly getting off track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bi-Curious Denial and Repressed Crushes

**Author's Note:**

> Found the prompt on Tumblr, if you are the original prompter and would like your name on here for credit of the prompt just let me know who you are! Prompt is found in the end notes.

It’s not that Dean wants to be hit on, okay. He doesn’t. He’s perfectly comfortable in his heterosexuality, thank you very much, no matter how often he’s been mistaken as part of a couple while on a case.

So sitting at the end of a bar in a gay club, on the lookout for a shape shifter that apparently has it out for the LGBTQ community, watching the multitude of guys that have come up to Cas just two seats away is making him a little pissed.

Because Cas is an angel, an innocent angel, who is, okay, attractive in an abstract sort of way, with those damn eyes and his perpetual sex hair and the way his lips are slightly chapped and so damn pink.

Dean’s possibly getting off track.

His point is he’s hot shit too, dammit! His eyes are green, rare enough that almost every partner he’s ever had has commented on them, he has a damn good body even with the scars and he likes cocksucker lips enough to be able to recognize them on his own face.

But he’s been sat at this bar for nearly an hour and not even a smile in passing. He doesn’t want to get hit on, he really doesn’t, because he doesn’t have time to brush off some guy that’s only interested in getting in his pants, but it’s the principal of the matter.

Actually, it’s a little insulting, because Dean has a good white teeth filled smile, and a quick tongue, and okay, so Cas gives off that ‘I’m innocent come corrupt me’ vibe, with his big guiles eyes and his damn come-hither head tilt, all of it made even more enticing by the fact that it’s intensely obvious the angel doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

He’s maybe gotten off track again.

The point is, is that Dean is feeling a little less than confident at the moment and having to watch _another_ guy sidle up to Cas isn’t helping matters.

He takes a savage pull of his beer and looks around for Sam.

The damn moose is in the center of the dance floor, twisting around like some damn livewire, one of those sparkling muscled guys pressed up against his back, and that was a hell of a lot more than Dean ever needed to know about his baby brother.

He thinks it’s probably a little safer for his mental health to turn back to Cas, watch him wave away another flirting guy without even batting an eyelash.

Maybe he’ll bring out some Mommy issues and use that.

Except the guy is still there, sitting next to the angel, hand on his arm, wide smile and leaning into his personal space. Cas, for his part, is smiling back, small and sweet, he isn’t backing away or saying anything, he’s actually listening to the guy, and he looks… _interested._

Like….like he’d take the guy home, like he’d let the guy touch him. He looks like every single conquest Dean has ever made in a bar, just waiting for the invite to a quieter place.

It makes something in Dean’s chest roar in protest, and he has an urge to do something, something violent.

It’s a feeling he’s used to, all truth told, but not in relation to what’s happening. What’s wrong with Cas getting some? The guy’s been celibate his entire existence, which is, as far as Dean can tell, at the very least as old as the Earth itself. Hell, Dean had tried to get Cas laid before. So he’s more into dudes than chicks, Dean isn’t going to judge.

The guy leans in further, nuzzles a little at Cas’ cheek and Dean’s off the blocks.

He’s vaguely aware of Sam watching him from his place on the dance floor but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t give a damn that the look on his face has twinks scattering in all directions, has the bartender look nervously between the hunter and the pair at the bar, because Cas is leaning in towards the guy, leaning into the nuzzles and Dean….Dean doesn’t like that.

He is not going to analyze why.

The guy sits back from Cas a little when he gets a glimpse of Dean, but then he smirks, and his fingers curl tighter around Cas’ wrist.

Dean hates him. Irrationally. Completely. Has a vivid, savage image of this guy being their shape-shifter, of Dean beating the living crap out of him.

“Dean?” Poor Cas looks confused as all hell, head tilted, eyes big and so, so blue.

Dean opens his mouth and realizes a little too late that he has absolutely nothing to say. He has no valid reason for coming over here, no real thought behind what he’d say when he arrived at this end of the bar.

“Uh, you…you okay Cas?”

It sounds even more ridiculous out loud than it did in Dean’s head and Cas’ “date” gives him a patronizing smile; like he knows why Dean came over, like he knows all about the turmoil broiling in the hunter’s chest.

It’s deeply unsettling.

“I am well, Dean,” is the response Cas gives, looking concerned. Dean feels like a total jackass, interrupting like this, but he can’t leave Cas alone with this guy, he just can’t. Because he knows the look on this guy’s face, knows his body language, knows exactly what he wants and something about it makes Dean irrationally angry. It isn’t like Cas’ first time has to be this big romantic thing with rose petals and candlelight, it’s not like the angel would even understand the significance of it anyway, and Dean’s own first time was in the backseat of the Impala, with a girl he can’t even remember now, he’s not even sure he knew her name then.

The point is, is that Dean is no big romantic, isn’t one to make sex tender and sweet but Cas deserves someone who will still be there in the morning, someone who will cuddle up to him afterwards, rub his back and arms, bring him down from the high of his first orgasm with gentle words and nuzzling kisses.

Cas deserves everything Dean didn’t have, everything this guy at the bar isn’t going to give him.

“Dean?” Cas has the constipated “I’m going to toss you back in the pit” look he gets when Dean hasn’t been listening.

“Yeah?” Another eloquent answer.

“Did you need something?”

Dean feels a little sick to his stomach when Cas’ date laughs behind his manicured hand. God would Dean love to punch him.

He wracks his brain for a reason, anything that sounds plausible enough to get Cas to leave with him, even if it’s only to the other side of the bar.

“Uh, Sam needs us.”

It’s incredibly obvious the minute that he says it that Sam, still dancing with abandon, doesn’t need anyone’s help.

Cas’ date laughs again, “I think your friend’s okay, you know he’ll still be straight even when he dances with men who aren’t.”

There’s no judgment in the man’s tone, just simple amusement and Dean would be relieved that he isn’t coming across as a homophobe if he wasn’t so intent on getting his angel away.

“That’s not what I meant,” he offers, and the man smiles, which, is actually a really nice image.

“I know, it’s hard, isn’t it?”

Dean blinks, thinking he’s missed a step somewhere, “What?”

The guy looks sympathetic again and Dean wants to run, wants to hide, he feels ridiculously exposed.

“Figuring out where you fit on the spectrum, if you even fit on it at all. Let me guess, up until now you’ve only dated women, right?”

Dean feels a little sick.

“Yeah, finally accepting that you like guys, it’s a big step, but maybe you shouldn’t come to a bar if you aren’t a hundred percent sure, these guys can get aggressive.”

Dean feels a little like he’s been sucker punched, because…what? What? What the ever loving fuck?

He isn’t gay, he isn’t, he likes women, is sexually attracted to women. He…okay, so he knows that just because he likes women doesn’t mean he’s straight, and just because he might, maybe, but definitely doesn’t, like men doesn’t make him gay. He does listen when Sam talks about equality, knows that there’re all sorts of different identifiers and many of them fall between gay and straight.

It’s just…he doesn’t.

Cas touches his arm, tilts his head, “Dean?”

Dean swallows, “Yeah, uh, I’m gonna get another beer.”

He’s only a step or two away when he hears the guy ask Cas if he wants to go somewhere quieter.

He freezes in place, every nerve on high alert as he listens for the angel’s answer.

“Yes.”

Dean’s entire world freezes for a minute and then a white fury settles deep in his bones. He turns an abrupt about face and marches back over to the pair of men.

“No, no, no, he isn’t going with you.”

The guy looks startled; Cas remains quiet, watches Dean with undisguised interest.

“Excuse me?” the man recovers.

“He isn’t going with you.”

The man steps forward, puffs up, “Look, buddy, I don’t really think that’s up to you.”

Dean can feel his rage boiling over when Cas stands, places a gentle, calming hand directly over the burned handprint on Dean’s shoulder.

“Perhaps it would be best if Dean and I talked.”

The man looks a little unsure but ends up shrugging and taking off, muttering something about finding someone hotter.

Dean seriously doubts that’s going to happen, but he isn’t too invested in it because Cas has grabbed hold of his hand now and is dragging him out of the bar, all thoughts of their case gone flying out the window.

Dean is a little more complacent than he probably would be normally.

He really isn’t going to examine it.

Cas finally turns to face him in the alleyway beside the bar, it’s filled with garbage and the perpetual smell of mold that seems to frequent such places.

“Dean?”

Cas doesn’t need to elaborate, Dean knows exactly what he’s asking, but he can’t answer, can’t allow anything that’s dancing around through his brain to exit his mouth because it would be the worst possible thing _ever._

The sound he makes is a gurgled choke and Cas sighs, long suffering, sounding a little like Sam when he thinks Dean is being deliberately dense.

“Dean, explain.”

Dean’s hackles go up and he backs away, breaks the grip that Cas still has on his hand and crosses his arms over his chest.

“We’re on a case, Cas, no time for you to run off and lose your virginity right now.”

It sounds cruel and judgmental to Dean’s own ears, but Cas’ face remains a studious blank.

“Yes, it would be ill timed.”

Dean’s stomach drops and he feels vividly like he’s going to puke; because that’s an unequivocal yes to the question of whether or not Cas was going to go off with that guy. The thought of them together makes his head spin.

“Cas…I…” he can’t say it, can’t talk about it.

It isn’t a conscious fight against it for fear of retribution, he can take any jackass that comes at him and he remembers Cas telling him that God puts no import on sexual orientation. But Dean’s never believed in God, never had a higher power to look towards. He believed in his father the way that Cas believes in his. John Winchester was his God and when your God catches you in the backseat with another boy, well, you listen to the names you’re called, you feel the beating you get; you understand that what you feel isn’t acceptable and you disregard it.

Because he believes in John Winchester.

But he believes in Cas too, believes so much in this Heavenly warrior that it scares him, because it feels a lot like love, a lot like his world would stop if Cas ever truly left him.

If he ran him off.

Brotherly love like how he feels about Sam, desperate urges to protect and shield, love like he has for his parents, fond memories of happiness and laughter, love like he has for the Impala, a home so much more comforting than the house in Lawrence, and love like he hasn’t felt before, love like his entire world revolves around this other being, love that could transcend time and space, love that could beat the Devil himself.

Love that can heal and create instead of break and destroy; and it scares him.

But the thought of that man with his hands all over Dean’s angel, his lips tracing hipbones and shoulder blades, is one that makes him crazy, makes him reckless, because even if he won’t be the last one to touch Cas, or the only, he can be the first.

Cas makes a surprised grunt when his back hits the brick of the alley wall. Dean can’t stop himself, can’t control this burning in his blood as he plasters himself all along the angel’s front, latches his teeth onto Cas’ pulse point and bites, _hard_ , Cas makes a sound like he’s dying.

Dean knows for a fact that Cas could toss his ass around like a limp ragdoll with no effort whatsoever, and the fact that he isn’t states that he most likely doesn’t want to.

Dean takes it as the permission it is.

He may not be able to leave a mark that’ll stay until the morning, but he can make a few nasty hickeys now and he sets about doing it, biting as hard as he can all over the angel’s throat.

Cas’ hands spasm helplessly against the damp brick and Dean can feel how hard he is, his hips making aborted little thrusts, with no rhythm whatsoever, and the remembrance that Cas is a virgin swims hot and heady through his veins, makes his dick twitch and throb at the thought of being able to corrupt him.

He worms a hand between them, flicks open Cas’ button and pulls the zipper down so hard he thinks he hears fabric rip.

Cas is gasping, panting, even though he doesn’t need to breathe.

The fact that the angel goes commando is equal parts wrong and sexy and the bare skin Dean’s hand encounters is slick with sweat and soft, so fucking soft.

Cas mewls when Dean’s fingers wrap around the length of his dick and Dean smiles viciously around the mouthful of skin he’s currently suckling a bruise into. The twist of his wrist has the angel scrabbling at the brick wall behind him. Rubbing his palm across the damp head has something a little closer to a howl echoing out of Cas’ throat.

“Dean,” it’s hot and dark and Dean wants nothing more than to swallow it down, hold it inside himself forever, because Cas _wants_ him.

“You like that baby? Huh? Like my hand on your dick, sweetheart?” he murmurs against clammy skin, pressing his lips to the curve of Cas’ ear. The angel shudders and mewls, and Dean twists his wrist viciously, quickening the pace.

Cas goes completely incoherent, mumblings that are more guttural sound than words and hands that spasm against brick, like they want to reach out to Dean but are afraid to.

Dean bites harder at the skin of Cas’ throat, rubs the heel of his hand mercilessly against the spongy head of the angel’s dick, gathering the pre-cum there to ease the slide of his hand back down the shaft. Drags his hand back up slow, pressing in hard, and Cas growls, actually growls, at him.

“Dean, please,” Cas sounds like he has no idea what he’s asking for, no idea what there is beyond this, but he wants it.

“Yeah baby, yeah, almost there angel? Huh, gonna cum for me? Come on Cas let it go, come on,” he squeezes, fingers pressing down to cup Cas’ balls, roll them, and Cas loses it, lets out a breathy gasp and comes, sticky release staining his clothes and Dean’s hand, the sleeve of his jacket, but Dean doesn’t care, couldn’t possibly care any less, because Cas’ face has gone slack, his expression blissful, sweat pooling at his temples, mouth red and shiny and open.

Dean is pretty sure that he’s never seen anything as sexy as Cas’ O face in his life.

But it hits him like a punch to the gut, because he’ll never see it again, Cas could never want him, not really, not like _that_.

“Dean,” Cas is still gasping and Dean is feeling more than a little smug, because he’s pretty positive that Cas is barely holding himself up.

“Yeah Cas?”

Cas turns his head, nuzzles in at Dean’s cheek, and Dean freezes, uncertain. Cas continues to nuzzle, latches onto the hunter’s earlobe with his teeth and tugs. Dean can’t help the full body shiver and turns into the nuzzle, lets Cas kiss his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his mouth.

He tastes like pretzels and beer and the stubble on his jaw rubs against Dean’s in a way that’s a little more painful than sexy, but his lips are soft and spit slick, and his hands have come up to pull them in closer.

Dean returns the favor, heedless of the mess, and buries his own hands in Cas’ hair, tilts his head a little to soften the angle.

It isn’t a world stopping kiss, or one that sticks his feet to the floor. Cas is obviously lacking in experience and he uses just a little too much tongue, but Dean has finally gotten what he wants, and maybe he doesn’t deserve it, an angel of the Lord, even one that’s a little rebellious, but he isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Dean,” Cas murmurs against his mouth, and Dean pulls back just a little to get some air, mouths still so close their lips rub together when he answers.

“Yeah Cas?”

Cas kisses him again, soft gentle little pecks, like he can’t help himself.

“Dean,” kiss, “we should go.”

Dean chuckles, kisses him again, “Yeah, where?”

Cas nuzzles their noses together, and Dean only wrinkles his in distaste a little, which makes the angel smile in a completely distracting way and Dean can’t help but kiss him again.

“Hotel, Impala, anywhere,” Cas murmurs between open-mouthed, drugging kisses that nearly lock Dean’s knees.

“You want to?” Dean isn’t sure that Cas realizes what he’s asking, but then he moves in, presses their bodies together fully, hips aligned and it occurs to Dean that maybe he knows _exactly_ what he’s asking.

“Yes,” Cas groans, presses a thigh between Dean’s legs, and Dean can’t help rolling down against the muscle of his thigh.

They’re grinding, kissing, completely entangled in one another, oblivious to the outside world, and maybe Dean is going to have to work through some stuff, and maybe Cas is too, but the kissing is good, and Dean’s got an angel on his side, so how bad could it really be?

Which ends the story of how Sam Winchester, having just taken out a skin walker all by himself, a feat of epic proportions even by hunter standards, comes out to brag to his brother, to find Dean wrapped around a half clothed angel making sounds no little brother should ever have to hear.

“Dammit Dean! My eyes!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> For some reason involving a case, Team Free Will has to go into a gay bar. Dean objects, complaining that he’s going to get hit on, cuz he’s just such a hottie who could resist? But when they go in, it’s not Dean that gets hit on, it’s Cas. Dean being jealous in a “grrr, don’t touch my angel” sort of way is fine, but mostly I think it’d be hilarious if Dean is like “what, why does he get hit on? Is he prettier than me? Am I not pretty?”   
> Bonus points if whoever was hitting on Cas tells Dean that he’s not getting hit on because, although he’s good looking, he’s obviously a major closet case. Even more bonus points if, for comparison, he recognizes Sam as just being plain old straight.  
> Infinite bonus points if Dean gets to the “grrr, don’t touch my angel” point when he realizes that Cas actually didn’t mind getting hit on, and says that he’s more open to sexual exploration than he was at the brothel now. And then Dean drags him out of the gay bar and away from anyone who might be getting into his angels pants in a huff of bi-curious denial and repressed crushes.


End file.
